


You Held Your Ear to the Ground

by grandvicar



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Baby's boyfriend sucks, Baby/Doc is endgame, But the team tries to save him, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Suffering happens before then though, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandvicar/pseuds/grandvicar
Summary: Baby meets someone out on a coffee run and decides to pursue a relationship with him. But as time goes on, little problems start to appear. Before he knows it, Baby is barely hanging on.Will the team notice before it's too late?Will Doc be able to pick up the pieces?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published work on ao3, so any feedback is welcome.
> 
> I'll warn about the more graphic chapters in the notes beforehand because this will get pretty dark for poor Baby.
> 
> Come talk Baby Driver with me on kik, I'm grandvicar.

He wishes he could say he never saw it coming—god does he wish he could say that—but it wouldn’t be the truth.

There were signs leading up to it that should have sent him running in the other direction. Little echoes of his father underneath certain gestures and phrases that taunted him with their familiarity. They seemed harmless on the surface, nothing more than flippant comments, right? He should have remembered.

He should have listened.

***

Baby never tried very hard to fit in. Actually, it’d be more accurate to say that he didn’t try at all.

From his two sets of back-up shades to his ever-present earbuds, it was obvious that engaging with the world around him wasn’t that high on his list of priorities.

So when a stranger sidled up beside him at the coffee shop and tapped him on the shoulder, he pulled an earbud out with an apology at the ready.

“Hey, man,” the guy said with a lopsided grin, “I was just wondering what you were listening to.”

Baby took a few seconds too long thinking of the answer and the stranger’s smile faded just a little bit.

“I saw you dancing up the street a minute ago and was just curious, sorry to have bothered you.” 

“Come a Little Bit Closer,” he blurted.

The man’s eyes widened, “What?”

Baby could feel the back of his neck heat up, “It’s—that’s, the song. It’s the name of the song. I was dancing to.”

“And here I thought you wanted me to come closer,” he said with a smirk.

Baby stared, unsure of whether or not he was being mocked. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, the barista called out his name.

“Order for, Baby?”

He stepped away, grateful to have an out, “That’s me, thanks.”

Just as he was turning to leave, a hand on his arm stopped him. The man just smiled at him as he held out a business card. Baby took it and stared down at it, confused.

The barista called out another order, but Baby was too busy staring at the card in his hand to notice. Suddenly the stranger was right beside him at the counter, reaching around Baby to get his coffee.

Almost directly in Baby’s ear, he murmured, “Just in case you’re looking for a dance partner, Baby,” and then turned and walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Baby gaping after him.

He quickly shoved the card in his jacket pocket and hurried out of the shop.


	2. Chapter 2

Baby's head was throbbing along with the pain in his arm as he trudged behind the others to make his way into the safe house.

The elevator ride up was tense and silent. 

Once it dinged on their floor, Baby stepped out first and made a beeline to the first chair he saw, dropping into it heavily. Doc, of course, was waiting for them and saw his sorry state immediately.

Baby made eye contact briefly, but looked away when he saw anger start to seep through Doc's calm demeanor. No one else in the room seemed to notice. 

Doc clasped his hands behind his back and affected a friendly smile. It chilled Baby down to his bones. 

"Would anyone care to explain the current state of my driver?" He asked. 

No one answered.

Doc walked to the other side of the table and leaned back against it, arms crossed, "Baby?"

"Got shot, Doc. Just a graze."

Doc pursed his lips. Directing his gaze at a tall, burly man with several tattoos covering his bald head, Doc asked, “Anything to add, Brass?”

Brass crossed his arms and drew himself up a little taller, “You heard the kid, it’s just a graze. It happens.”

“See that’s the part I’m interested in. How did it happen?”

A dark-skinned woman with close-cropped hair and a thin scar down the left side of her face answered, “It was friendly fire. Brass was trying to shoot out the wheels of a black and white when we rammed a truck. He clipped the kid.” 

Brass rounded on the woman, “You fuckin’ bitch—“

A gunshot echoed through the safe house and Brass fell to the floor with a shout. Baby looked toward Doc to see he had a gun drawn, his face utterly expressionless as he stared at the man groaning on the floor clutching his knee.

“You fuckin’ bastard! You shot me in the knee!” he shouted.

“And if you don’t quiet down, I’ll shoot you some more,” he replied. Without taking his eyes off Brass, he addressed Baby, “Go down and wait by the car, I’ll be there in a bit and I’ll take you to get patched up.”

“I’m fine, really,” he protested.

“Baby. Go.” Doc’s tone left no room for arguing, so Baby picked himself up and headed back to the elevator, not daring to look at anyone as he passed.

***

Down in the parking garage, Baby skipped through songs without really hearing any of them. He stuck his left hand in his jacket pocket and felt something poke his palm. Pulling it out of his pocket, he remembered the guy from yesterday morning—Mark, according to the business card in Baby’s hand. Apparently this Mark guy was some sort of financial analyst at a firm a few blocks away.

Baby was still staring at the card when Doc suddenly appeared beside him. He startled and dropped it.

Doc bent down to pick it up, inspecting it closely before handing it back, “Looking to get some financial advice, Baby?”

Baby contemplated lying to Doc, but he knew better.

“No. It’s from a guy I met at the coffee shop yesterday.”

Doc’s eyebrows rose, “Oh really now? Interesting.”

Baby just hummed in response, unsure of what to say.

“And are you going to be calling on this gentleman in the near future?”

He shrugged.

“Well you have my blessing to do so, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.”

Baby looked at him in shock.

“Did you really think I’d forbid it or some other nonsense?” He asked with amusement.

“Maybe?”

“So long as he’s not a distraction and he doesn’t find out about our little deal, I don’t particularly care. Now get in the car, we need to get your arm looked at before it gets infected.”

Baby put the card back in his pocket and got in the car.

As they drove off, he idly wondered what would happen if he decided to call the guy. Only one way to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Baby's first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs have meaning! Go listen to them! Or just Google the lyrics. I promise they're all good songs, though.
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome.
> 
> Just a note: Mark has kind of a large part in this story, but a solid 70% of the focus will be on Doc and Baby's relationship in the aftermath. So bear with me!

Baby hung up the phone in a daze, Mark’s parting words echoing in his head. 

‘It’s a date.’

He almost wishes he had thought to record the conversation, but the buzz from the phone would have ruined anything he tried to create. But still.

He turned around and saw Joe watching him.

“What?” he signed.

“Who was that?” Joe signed back, confusion clear on his face.

“Someone I met yesterday. He asked me to have coffee with him tomorrow.” Baby rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously after he signed it. 

Joe clapped his hands, excited, “Did you say yes?”

Baby laughed. “Yes.”

“Good,” he smiled brightly at Baby, “good.”

***

The morning of his date, Baby was swaying gently in the kitchen while he made a peanut butter sandwich for Joe—‘Cigarettes and Coffee’ crooning from the speakers.

He was trying not to think too hard about where he needed to be in just a couple of hours, but the thoughts came to him in the space between songs all the same. He couldn’t pinpoint the feeling in his chest. Whether it was nerves or excitement or even dread, he couldn’t tell—maybe it was all of them.

Either way, the hands of the clock ticked on interminably and before he knew it, it was time to leave. He opened a drawer of his dresser that was filled to the brim with sunglasses and put one pair on and two more into his pockets, like always. He then went to his desk to pick out an iPod for the day.

He wasn’t sure what kind of mood he was in, so he picked a silver one with a cracked screen that was filled with nothing but jazz and instrumentals. 

Waving goodbye to Joe, he departed. He nearly missed Joe signing good luck right as the door closed.

‘Splanky’ by Count Basie started playing as he headed down the stairs and he danced along to the tune on his way to the coffee shop, narrowly avoiding a collision with a bike messenger as he rounded the corner. The horns were just fading out when he pushed the door to the coffee shop open.

Glancing around, he saw Mark sitting down at a table in the corner. Hoping his trepidation didn't show on his face, he headed over.

Mark waved when he noticed Baby. Baby waved back, somewhat hesitantly.

"Sorry I'm late," he said once he was in earshot. 

Mark gave him a bright smile, "You're not, I got here a little early."

Baby took off his sunglasses and sat down, unsure of how to proceed. 

Mark leaned forward a bit, "So, what's the soundtrack for today?"

“Oh, um, just some Count Basie and Miles Davis,” he said with a shrug.

“I’ve heard of Miles Davis, but not Count Basie. The music any good?”

Baby toyed with his sunglasses, “Depends what you like. I mean, I like it.”

“Can I listen?” he asked, gesturing at one of Baby’s earbuds.

“Yeah, sure,” Baby said, pulling one out and handing it over.

They sat for a few moments just listening to the intro to ‘So What’ by Miles Davis. Baby chanced a fleeting look at Mark and was surprised to see that he was being watched. Startled, Baby quickly looked away.

With a soft laugh, Mark pulled out the earbud and handed it back for Baby to tuck in his ear.

“I see the appeal, but I’m just not a music kind of guy,” he said with a slightly sheepish grin.

“You don’t like music?” Baby asked, bewildered.

Mark laughed, “Not particularly.”

Baby just stared, a somewhat puzzled look on his face.

“Sorry, is that a deal breaker?” Mark teased.

Baby hastily shook his head, “No, I’ve just never met anyone who didn’t like music, I guess.”

“Well then you’ll just have to like it enough for the both of us, won’t you?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I think I can do that,” he replied, nodding.

Leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his coffee, Mark asked, “So, Baby. Tell me about yourself.”

“Um,” Baby fidgeted a bit, “well, what do you wanna know?”

“Let’s see,” Mark contemplated for a moment, “how old are you?”

“I’m 23.”

“Where are you from?”

“Atlanta. Lived here my whole life.”

“How tall are you? And don’t lie.”

“I’m around 6’ 4”.”

“6’ 4”? Really? Damn. You’ve got a solid six inches on me.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. I like a tall drink of water,” Mark said with a wink.

Baby felt his cheeks redden.

“There’s one thing I am curious about, though. If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Go ahead.”

Mark leaned forward again, “Is your name really ‘Baby’ or is it just something people call you that stuck?”

Baby thought about it for a second. It had been ten years since anyone called him by his given name. The driver’s license that Doc had given him even said ‘Baby’ on it, so it wasn’t a complete lie, was it? Instead of answering, Baby pulled the driver’s license out of his wallet and slid it across the table.

Mark picked it up and read it. 

“Well I’ll be damned. Your name really is ‘Baby’,” he said, handing the card back.

Baby tucked the license back into his wallet, feeling just a little guilty.

Mark drummed his fingers on the table and leaned his head on his hand, “One more thing just occurred to me. How have we been having a conversation this whole time when you’ve got music playing in your ears?”

“I can read lips. Sorry, do you want me to take them out?”

“No, it’s totally fine. It’s pretty impressive, actually. Where’d you pick up the skill?”

“Just something I learned over the years.”

“Cool, so—“

Mark cut off his sentence and pulled a phone out of his pocket. He turned the screen around to face Baby and gave the phone a little wiggle. There was an alarm flashing on the screen.

“Looks like I’ve got to head back to work, unfortunately,” he said, putting the phone back in his pocket and standing up.

Baby grabbed his sunglasses and followed suit.

“I really enjoyed this, Baby. Would you like to meet again? Maybe for dinner?” Mark asked with a hopeful smile.

“Uh, yeah. Yes. I’d like that.”

“Great! I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can figure things out.”

“Ok.”

Mark moved past Baby and headed out of the shop. Looking over his shoulder he said, “See you around, Baby,” and was gone.

“See you," Baby said to himself.

‘I Fall in Love Too Easily’ started playing—Chet Baker singing sweetly in his ears. 

Baby skipped the song.


	4. Chapter 4

Three nights later, Baby and Mark went out to dinner at a modest family-owned restaurant. On the way out of the restaurant, Mark pulled Baby out of the path of a cyclist he couldn’t hear coming.

“What would you do without me?” Mark asked jokingly.

Baby just shrugged, unsure of how to answer.

***

Two days after that, Mark took him to see a drive-in movie. It was an old black and white film that Baby couldn’t remember the name of, but he liked it just fine.

When Mark pulled up outside Baby’s apartment to drop him off, he got out as well. Once they reached the front door of Baby’s building, Baby turned to wish Mark a good night, only to find him standing just a few inches away.

Baby opened his mouth to say something, he wasn’t sure what, when Mark placed a hand on the back of Baby’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. When their lips met, Baby stood there frozen for a moment before his brain kicked into gear and he kissed back.

Mark pulled away first, a smile on his face. Baby tentatively returned it.

“G’night Baby,” Mark said, taking a step back.

“Good-goodnight,” Baby answered.

Mark turned around and walked back to his car, leaving Baby staring after him. Once the car was out of sight, Baby walked into his building and climbed the stairs to his apartment, feeling dazed the whole way up.

After he locked the door, Baby headed straight for his sound equipment and pulled out his tape recorder.

“G’night Baby.”

Rewind.

“G’night Baby.”

Rewind.

“G’night Baby.”

He was up all night.

***

The next week, Baby had two jobs back to back and couldn’t meet with Mark at all. He was grateful Mark was so understanding about it, but he still felt bad about cancelling their plans.

It was still on his mind as he followed Doc out of the elevator and over to his car.

He was broken out of his thoughts by Doc whacking him lightly in the face with a ten-thousand-dollar stack.

“Anybody home in there?”

“Sorry,” Baby mumbled, taking the stack from Doc, “just thinking.”

“About that new boy of yours?” Doc asked knowingly.

Baby’s eyes widened slightly, “No,” he lied.

Doc let a breath out through his nose, “Word of advice, Baby. Never play poker. You can’t bluff worth a damn.”

Baby shrugged.

“I only ask,” Doc said, crossing his arms, “because I’m curious as to whether he’s asked about what you do for a living.”

“He has.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Doc rolled his eyes, “And what did you tell him, Baby?”

“I told him I was a driver. He assumed I meant delivery guy.”

Doc hummed and uncrossed his arms, “I guess that’ll do. Now give me your burner.”

Baby pulled the phone out of his pocket and placed it in Doc’s outstretched hand. Doc handed him his new one and sent him on his way.

***

As often as he was able, Baby spent his free time with Mark. Between taking care of Joe, haunting Bo’s diner, and working jobs, all of Baby’s time was spent with him.

A little over a month passed and Mark asked Baby if they could see each other exclusively; if they could be boyfriends. Baby had said yes. Some days it made his head spin. That anyone would want a relationship with him, let alone a romantic one, was nearly unfathomable. And yet here they were, two months into it.

They went out for dinner that night at a small cafe a few blocks from Baby's apartment. The food was good, but the conversation was slightly stilted--as it always was when Baby was involved. Mark never seemed to mind though, an indulgent smile always playing at the corners of his mouth.

As they left the cafe, Mark suggested they walk around for a bit. They ambled along the streets for a while, hand in hand, before Mark stopped them at a bench overlooking a park.

Sitting down, Mark tapped on Baby's earbud, "Take that out for a couple minutes, will you?"

Baby pulled the buds out and paused his song, looking at Mark expectantly. 

"Now I was originally planning to tell you this in the cafe, but I didn't want you to feel cornered or anything, so I waited."

Baby's stomach felt like it dropped out of him at those words. He resolutely stared at the ground.

"C'mon Baby, can't you look at me?" Mark asked, giving Baby's hand a squeeze. "It's important."

Dragging his eyes up from the ground, Baby settled on a point a little to left of Mark's head. 

Mark took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I was never quite sure of how I wanted to say it." Mark paused for a moment and just looked at Baby, "I figure the best way is to just, y'know, tell you."

Baby waited, not letting anything show on his face.

"I love you, Baby."

Baby froze. He wasn't expecting that. 

Mark let go of his hand and reach up to tilt Baby's face toward him so that they were making eye contact.

"Did I freak you out?" He asked.

"Um, you, sorry," Baby fumbled with his tape recorder in his jacket pocket, "sorry, can you repeat that?" He asked, holding the recorder up to Mark.

Mark leaned forward and, without breaking eye contact, repeated, "I love you, Baby."

Baby clicked it and rewound it.

"I love you, Baby."

He looked back and forth between Mark and the tape recorder a few times, "Do you mean it?"

Mark laughed, "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. And anyway, you haven't even given me an answer."

"An answer?"

Mark rolled his eyes and Baby was suddenly reminded of Doc, but he forced the thought away.

"Do you love me too?" Mark asked, giving Baby an indecipherable look.

Baby nodded, "Yeah, uh, yes. I do. Y'know."

"I want to hear you say it," Mark prompted.

Baby took a steadying breath, "I love you, too."

Mark smiled at Baby, "I'm glad. Now, what do you say we get outta here and head back to my place."

Baby shook his head before Mark had finished asking, "I can't, I gotta get back to Joe. He needs help getting into bed sometimes."

"Well what about after? I can drive you back and then take you to my place when you're done."

What Baby wanted was to head home and be alone so that he could listen to the message on his tape over and over again. But he agreed anyway.

***

When they pulled up to the building, Mark turned his car off and got out. Baby stayed where he was and stared.

Mark leaned down so he could see Baby through the window, "Well are you coming or what?"

Getting out of the car and trailing after Mark, Baby asked, "You're coming up, too?"

"Why not? Isn't it about time I met Joe?"

Baby couldn't figure out an answer to that, so he silently unlocked the door and led the way up the stairs. Once they made it to his apartment, he hesitated.

Mark placed a hand on the small of Baby's back, "You alright?"

"M'fine," Baby mumbled, shoving the key in the lock and pushing the door open.

Joe was sitting in front of the T.V., focused on some crappy show Baby couldn't remember the name of. He looked over when he noticed the door open. 

Baby stepped into the apartment with Mark close behind him. Joe's eyes widened.

Baby shut the door and signed to Joe, speaking aloud as he did so, "Joe, this is Mark. Mark, Joe."

"Hi Joe," Mark said with a wave, "it's a pleasure to meet you. Baby's told me a lot about you." Baby signed as Mark spoke.

Joe smiled and signed back, Baby translating still, "I've heard plenty about you too. Nice to finally meet you."

This time, he was silent when he signed to Joe, "I just came to pick up a few things and get you into bed."

Joe clicked his tongue and made a shooing motion with his hands before signing, "I can manage just fine. You go have fun."

Baby hesitated, "Are you sure?"

Joe nodded, "Of course I am. Now get your things and go."

Mark watched the exchange with interest, "I'm completely lost. What am I missing?"

Baby headed toward his room to pack a few things, "He said he was fine and now he's kicking me out."

Baby grabbed a backpack that was sticking out from under his bed and started shoving things inside it. 

He grabbed a couple iPods off the desk, a spare jacket from the closet, some boxers out of the laundry basket, and a white t-shirt. Then he went to the bathroom to grab his shaving kit.

He returned to the living room and signed to Joe, "All set. You sure you're okay?"

Joe gave him an exasperated look, "I'm fine. Go."

"Okay, okay, we're going." 

Mark and Baby waved goodbye to Joe and left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is explicit and gets a little non-con.
> 
> Baby and Mark get intimate but Baby is overwhelmed and doesn't want to go through with it. Instead of saying something, he just lets it happen.

Baby tried to settle on a song during the drive to Mark’s apartment, but he just couldn’t seem to—especially not with Mark’s hand gripping his thigh like that.

He did his level best to keep himself calm, but he couldn’t help thinking about what Mark was obviously expecting of Baby once they arrived. He barely restrained a nervous shudder.

Upon arriving in the parking structure, Mark removed his hand and turned to Baby, “Shall we?” he asked with a playful smile.

Baby tried to find his voice but couldn’t. He exited the car and stood beside it staring off into the distance.

Mark came around to Baby and took ahold of his hand, “Hey,” he said, waiting until Baby looked at him before he continued, “Nothing’s gonna happen that you don’t want, alright?”

Baby nodded jerkily.

Mark pulled him down for a quick kiss.

Baby liked kissing. He liked the feeling of another person pressed up against him--their heartbeat thumping in time with his--but all too soon Mark was pulling away.

“What do you say we head upstairs?” He asked.

“Alright,” Baby said, licking his lips, “Alright.”

 

***

 

Up in the apartment, Mark offered Baby something to drink, but Baby declined.

Mark poured himself a generous measure of bourbon and knocked it back in one go. Baby unwillingly thought of his father coming home after work all those years ago and demanding his mother fix him a drink, which later turned into her fetching him beers when he lost his job and money got too tight for the good stuff.

Baby shook his head to clear it. He didn’t want to associate those kinds of thoughts with Mark. Mark was nice, Mark was responsible, and Mark wasn’t anything like his father.

Setting his glass down, Mark smiled at Baby, “So. Would you like a tour of the place?”

“Uh, sure.”

Spreading his arms, Mark made a wide, sweeping gesture, “This, as you can see, is the living room. The kitchen is right over here,” he led Baby around a corner to a kitchen filled with sleek, top-of-the-line appliances. Turning around, he directed Baby across the living room to a narrow hallway with a door on either side. Opening the door on the right, he said, “Door number one is the bathroom,” he shut the door and turned to face Baby, “and door number two,” he reached around Baby, bringing them flush against one another, “is the bedroom.”

Mark opened the bedroom door.

As Baby was figuring out what to do next, Mark took a step forward, forcing Baby to take a step back into the room.

Mark reached up and pulled the earbuds out of Baby’s ears and let them fall to the floor. Trailing his hands down Baby’s neck and chest, he tugged Baby’s jacket off his shoulders and let that fall to the floor as well. Putting his hands back on Baby’s chest, Mark pushed Baby backwards toward the bed. When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed, Baby sat down heavily and stared up at Mark.

Mark cupped his cheek, leaned down, and kissed Baby passionately. Baby closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of Mark’s lips against his.

As they were kissing, one of Mark’s hands moved from the side of Baby’s face and slid down his chest, coming to a rest at the waistband of Baby’s jeans.

Without any preamble, Mark pressed his hand firmly against Baby’s half-hard erection. Baby broke the kiss with a gasp. He fisted his hands in the comforter while Mark continued to massage him through his jeans.

“Do you like that?”

Baby wasn’t sure. It was too much all at once, but he didn’t know how to say it to Mark so he kept silent.

“C’mon Baby,” Mark urged, “talk to me.”

Now fully erect, Baby was finding it hard to get the words out through the haze of arousal. “S’good,” he murmured in lieu of anything else.

Stopping his ministrations, Mark straightened up and started taking off the rest of his clothes. Once he was down to his boxers, he stepped forward and gripped the hem of Baby’s shirt, lifting it up over Baby’s head and then tossing it to the floor.

“Get further on the bed.”

Baby scooted back until his head was on the pillows. He felt hands at his waistband undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. Just as Mark was sliding them down his hips, Baby’s hand shot out to grab hold of them.

Mark glanced at Baby and smiled, “Don’t be nervous. It’s okay.” He pulled Baby’s jeans the rest of the way off and threw them on the pile with the rest of Baby’s clothes.

Baby didn’t know what to do. The ringing in his ears was too loud and he had nothing to drown it out. He could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, but it was more nerves than excitement. He didn’t know if he was ready for this.

He wasn’t ready for this.

Mark covered Baby’s body with his own and captured Baby’s lips once more in a heated kiss. Baby returned the kiss, but there was no passion behind it. Mark didn’t seem to notice.

Baby retreated into his head and recited song lyrics to himself.

_Oh I could hide ‘neath the wings_

Mark tracked a trail of kisses across Baby’s cheek and down his neck.

_Of the bluebird as she sings_

He settled his thigh between Baby’s legs and pressed down. Baby couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped from between his lips.

_The six o’clock alarm would never ring_

Mark bit down on Baby’s collarbone and sucked a hickey into his soft skin.

_But six rings and I rise_

Lifting so that he was braced on one arm, Mark pulled his boxers down a bit and did the same to Baby’s before he thrust down sharply. Baby’s breathing just about stopped. On some level, Baby was aware that it felt good, but it wasn’t enough to outweigh the pervading sense of _wrong_ that seemed to be suffocating him. He tried to maintain his focus.

_Wipe the sleep out of my eyes_

Mark was saying something in Baby’s ear over and over.  Baby could barely hear him over the tinnitus.

_The shaving razor’s cold and it stings_

Baby could feel Mark’s heartbeat against his chest with every downward thrust, but they were off beat with each other—clashing. Mark sped up the pace and Baby could feel himself getting closer to the edge. Moments later, he came with a stifled cry, Mark following close behind.

Deep heaving breaths filled the room, and the hum in Baby’s ears grew impossibly loud. He was distantly aware of Mark saying something to him as they both sat up, but Mark was off the bed and headed to the bathroom before Baby could ask what he’d said.

Baby tucked himself back into his boxers and looked up to see Mark holding out a wet washcloth to him with a smile on his face. Baby accepted it and cleaned the mess off his stomach.

Mark picked up Baby’s t-shirt off the floor and tossed it to him. Baby eagerly pulled it on.

“I don’t know about you,” Mark said sitting down on the bed next to Baby, “but sex always makes me really hungry. What about you? You want something to eat?”

Baby wanted to be alone. More than anything at that moment, he wanted to be in a car headed nowhere on a road with no name. He settled for muttering something about being tired.

Mark laughed and jostled their shoulders together, “So you’re one of those guys. It’s fine, that’s cool. I won’t be mortally offended if you fall asleep while I’m in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” Baby said, trying to keep his tone light, “thanks.”

Mark patted Baby’s knee and then left the room.

Baby pulled the covers back on the bed and slid beneath the comforter. Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he closed his eyes and tried to keep himself together.

When Mark returned, Baby slowed his breathing and feigned sleep.

He should have stayed home.


	6. Chapter 6

A few weeks later, Baby was watching T.V. with Joe when the phone rang. Baby ignored it. It was the third time that day and he’d already answered once.

Ever since their night together, Mark had gotten increasingly demanding of Baby’s time. He started calling at all hours of the day asking Baby what he was up to, where he’d been, where he was going, when can I see you. Baby didn’t know what to make of it.

What made it all the more confusing was the last time they planned a date, Baby had to cancel due to a call from Doc. When he broke the news, Mark hung up on him and wouldn’t return his calls for two days. When he finally did answer, he was all apologies and understanding, so Baby forgave it.

The ringing finally stopped and Baby sighed in relief.

It immediately started ringing again.

Baby stood up so quickly his chair almost toppled backward. He stalked over to the phone and picked it up, taking a deep, calming breath as he did.

“Hello?”

“Baby! It’s me. What are you up to?” Mark sounded drunk, his words slurring together slightly.

“Me and Joe are watching a movie on T.V. before we go to bed.”

“Why don’t you come over and sleep here when it’s done? It feels like forever since you came over last.”

Baby closed his eyes and tried not to think of that night. For the last three weeks, he’d succeeded in subverting Mark’s attempts to get him to come over again and he had no intention of changing that tonight.

He was working out how to answer when his burner started vibrating in his pocket. Baby never thought the day would come when he’d be grateful to receive a call from Doc.

“Sorry Mark, I gotta go. Work is calling.”

“At this time of night? Can’t you let someone else pick up whatever it is?” He asked indignantly.

“I can’t,” Baby said shortly, “Look, I really need to answer. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Whatever.”

The line went dead.

Baby pulled the burner out of his pocket and flipped it open.

“There’s my favorite wheelman. How would you like to make me a very happy man?”

“Sure.”

“Excellent. Be at the safehouse at 10 A.M. tomorrow.”

“Got it.”

 

***

 

Baby sat in his usual chair in the safehouse and waited for the other three members of the crew to get there while ‘Shame’ by Randy Newman kept him company in the meantime.

Just as the final notes were fading out, the elevator dinged. Baby made out three sets of footsteps and some indistinct chatter before the next song started.

Someone dropped into the stool sitting next to Baby and pulled his earbud out. He looked over and saw Buddy smirking back at him.

“Long time no see, Baby. How you been?” he asked.

“Fine,” he replied, wincing inwardly. He didn’t mean to come across so curt. “You?” he asked, trying to make up for it. Baby genuinely liked Buddy. He was one of the few people Baby worked with who didn’t treat him with outright hostility the first time they met. Baby would go as far to say that he was nice.

Buddy handed the earbud back, “Been good. Me and Darling took a little trip to Europe.”

Baby desperately wanted to ask about it, but he didn’t know if his questions would be welcome. “Cool,” he said instead.

Buddy knocked twice on the desk in front of Baby and stood up to join Darling at the planning table, who waved at Baby when he looked over. The third person in the room, a man with shoulder length black hair and a permanent scowl who Doc addressed as Bull, was looking at Baby with interest. Baby avoided looking in his direction.

Still staring at Baby, Bull asked, “So what’s the deal with the kid? He even old enough to drive?”

Doc stopped writing on the board and regarded the man coolly, “That ‘kid’ is the best goddamn driver you’ve ever seen. He’s fucking Mozart with a Go Kart. Now if we’re done shooting the shit, how about we get down to business?”

Baby clicked off his tape recorder and stood to join everyone at the table.

 

***

 

Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel and mouthing along to his music, Baby waited for the other three to come sprinting out of the bank. Distantly, he could hear the booms as Buddy fired his shotgun into the ceiling.

Right as the opening notes of ‘Ski Bunny’ filtered through his earbuds, Baby saw the bank doors fly open.

He revved the engine and shifted the car into gear. Right as the last door slammed shut, Baby floored it.

Baby swerved through midmorning traffic, narrowly avoiding collisions left and right. A quick glance at his rearview mirror showed three patrol cars on his tail. He frowned to himself as he pumped the handbrake and wrenched the wheel around in the middle of an intersection. Doc hadn’t predicted any police involvement until they hit the highway, and he had never been wrong before.

Baby needed to improvise, and quick.

Speeding back past the police cars on the opposite side of the median, Baby drifted around a corner and out of sight. He didn’t take his foot off the gas yet, though. Weaving through traffic, he caught sight of a parking garage and cut across the road to pull into it.

“Baby, what are you doing, this isn’t the drop site,” Buddy called from the backseat.

“Change of plans,” Baby said, bringing the car to a stop and wrenching the key out of the ignition, “get out.”

Everyone filed out of the car and followed Baby down the row of vehicles. Baby quickly surveyed the make and model of each car before settling on an older Mazda SUV.

“Give me your scarf,” he said to Darling.

She unwound it and handed it over, “What’s going on, Baby?”

Baby wrapped the scarf around his hand and gripped the key tightly, “Explain later.”

Bull dropped his bag and grabbed Baby by his jacket, slamming him up against the car, “You’ll explain now, you little shit.”

Faster than anyone could track, Baby swung the hand holding the key down against the corner of the window as hard as he could, shattering it. “No,” he said, “now get in.”

Bull punched him in the face and Baby’s head snapped back against the car and he felt a shattered piece of his sunglasses cut into his skin. He kept still.

Buddy cocked his shotgun and pointed it at Bull, “Let him go or else this job is going to be a four-way split.”

Bull backed off.

Baby straightened his jacket and handed the scarf back to Darling, “I need your hairpin.”

Darling pulled it out and handed it over. Baby jammed it in the ignition alongside the other car’s key and the Mazda’s engine turned over. He turned to see Buddy still pointing his gun at Bull.

“We need to leave.”

“Try anything else and you’re dead, got it?” Buddy said, lowering his shotgun.

Bull sneered at him, “Whatever you say.”

Baby shut his door and searched through the songs on his iPod while everybody got in the car. Once they were all in the car, Baby pressed play and gunned it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes Debora!

Arriving back at the safehouse, they were greeted by Doc staring down at his watch.

“Eighteen minutes and thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five seconds,” he looked up at them with an icy smile, “That is how long you have kept me waiting. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Bull tossed his bag on the ground and crossed his arms, “You can thank Hotwheels over here for that.”

Doc looked at Baby, “Thanks, Hotwheels. Now what the hell happened?”

Nobody was immediately forthcoming, so Buddy spoke up, “We’re not exactly sure. Baby got us away from the cops and boosted a clean car before we even got to the drop site. He didn’t say why.”

“Well, Baby, we’re all ears,” Doc said.

Baby stared at Doc for a long moment before finally speaking. “Cops were on us before we reached the highway. I think—“ he cut himself off and shook his head.

“Well don’t leave us in suspense, Baby. What do you think?”

“I think we were made.”

Complete silence settled over the room. Doc broke it with a heavy sigh.

“Baby, go get us some coffee,” Doc said.

“I—ok,” Baby turned around and was walking toward the elevator when Doc called out.

“Oh, and Baby? Take your time.”

In the elevator, Baby swapped his sunglasses out to hide the forming bruise on his face and resolutely did not think about anything but his music.

 

***

 

Baby stepped out of the elevator and walked over to the planning table to set down the coffees. He set the fourth cup in the empty space that Bull had occupied the day before and made no comment as he walked to his chair in the back.

‘Murder Suicide Meteor Slave’ started playing while Baby stared dead ahead.

 

***

 

When he got back to the apartment from the junkyard the following morning, Joe was napping in his wheelchair in front of the television. Baby hid the money under the loose floorboard and turned to wake Joe only to see him staring at him already, sadness in his eyes.

 Baby couldn’t take it. “ _I’m heading to Bo’s. Want anything?”_

Joe shook his head ‘no’.

“ _Okay. See you.”_ Right as he made it to the door, the phone started ringing.

Baby left.

 

***

 

Sitting in the diner, Baby was flipping through his music when he heard the door open and the sound of someone singing.

 _“_ B-A-B-Y, Baby _.”_

He looked up and saw a girl with wavy, honey-colored hair and kind eyes walking his direction, still singing. He frantically pulled his tape recorder out of his pocket to capture the sound of her voice lilting through the unfamiliar tune.

“B-A-B-Y, Baby,” she walked past his table and through the double doors to the employee area, “whenever the sun don’t shine.”

Baby clicked off the recording, rewound it, and played it again.

“So,” a voice said to his right, “what can I get you this fine morning?”

Startled, Baby turned and looked up to see the girl who had been singing looking back at him with a smile.

“Uhh,” he set down his recorder and looked at the menu, caught off guard.

“Don’t worry if you need a sec. I have all the time in the world,” she caught sight of Baby’s recorder, “whoa, are you recording this?”

Baby stammered and tried to think of an explanation for it.

“Am I being monitored for quality assurance?” she asked in a lightly teasing tone. She picked up the recorder and clicked it on, “Hello? Hello, testing. What can I get you this fine morning, _sir_?” She held it out to him for an answer then shut it off and set it back on the table when he faltered. “You know that’s a kid’s menu, right?”

Baby flipped it over, “Yeah, uh— “

“I get it, it’s early,” she said with a wave of her hand, “So you just starting your day, or you just get off?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I ever get off,” he answered with a smile, “they call, I go. Y’know?”

“So, what is it you do?”

Baby hesitated, “I’m a driver.”

“Like a chauffeur. You drive around important people.”

Baby thought about that for a second, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Anyone I’d know?”

“I hope not.”

“Well aren’t you mysterious?”

He smirked, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she said with a laugh. “So, when was the last time you hit the road just for fun?”

“Yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m jealous. Sometimes all I want to do is head West on 20 in a car I can’t afford with a plan I don’t have. Just me, my music, and the road.”

“I’d like that, too,” Baby said softly.

Someone cleared their throat loudly from in the kitchen.

The girl startled slightly and looked behind her at her boss then back at Baby, “Oh, so you decide on anything yet?”

Baby decided she was beautiful. “No, um,” he looked at her nametag, “Jonathan?”

She looked down and laughed, “Oh, sorry. This isn’t my badge. I’ve only just started here—“

“As a Jonathan,” Baby finished.

“Yeah,” she said, “as a Jonathan. Well, if you have any more questions, just holler.” She walked away and started singing again, “B-A-B-Y, Baby.”

Baby leaned out of his booth and called after her, “I have a question. What’s that song you’re singing?”

She smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

Back at the apartment that evening, Baby was dancing to the Carla Thomas vinyl he’d just bought when the phone rang. Feeling light and happy, he paused the music and answered.

“He—“

“Baby, what the hell?” Mark sounded pissed, “I’ve been calling all day, where have you been?”

“I had work and then I went out. I didn’t know you called.”

“This is why you should carry a phone like I told you. Then this wouldn’t happen.”

“I can’t afford one,” Baby lied. The truth was, he just didn’t feel like having one.

Mark let out a frustrated sigh, “Fine. Look, I don’t want to argue about this, that’s not why I called.”

“Okay.”

“I wanted to know if you were free to come over tomorrow.”

“Um, I don’t know,” Baby said, remembering the last time he went to Mark’s place.

“It’s been a week since I've seen you, Baby,” Mark said somewhat harshly, “besides, didn’t you promise you’d make it up to me?”

Seeing no way out, Baby agreed.

“I’ll pick you up at five tomorrow, then.”

“Okay,” Baby said without enthusiasm.

“Jesus, could you at least pretend to be happy about it?”

Baby didn’t know where all this anger was coming from. It was completely unlike Mark to be so hostile. “I’m, I’m sorry. I do want to see you, I’m just tired is all.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Mark’s tone of voice was apologetic, “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you. Forgive me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Bye, Baby.”

 

***

 

Baby was sitting out on the steps of his building when Mark’s car pulled up. Mark opened the passenger side door from the inside and called out to him, “Hey, Baby. How’s it going?”

Thrown off by the jovial tone, Baby got in the car and hesitantly replied, “I’m, um, I’m good. You?”

“Better now that you’re here,” he said with a flirtatious smile, and then drove off.

The drive to Mark’s apartment was filled with idle chatter that Baby responded to as best he could. He felt some of the tension drain out of his shoulders as they talked, grateful that Mark’s mood seemed to have gone back to normal.

Once they arrived at the parking structure and made their way to Mark’s door, some of Baby’s unease started to return. Mark unlocked the door to his apartment and ushered Baby inside.

“So, I figure,” Mark said as he took off his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door, “we can start watching that show I told you about, order some pizza, and just hang out. That sound all right?”

Baby nodded, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Can you turn your music off, though?”

Wary of bringing back Mark’s bad mood if he refused, Baby pulled his earbuds out and removed his iPod from his jacket pocket. The wire of the buds must have wrapped around his tape recorder somehow, because when he tugged, both the iPod and the recorder clattered to the floor. When it hit the ground, his recorder started playing the last thing he taped.

“B-A-B-Y, Baby,” echoed through the apartment, “whenever the sun don’t shine,” a crackle, “Hello? Hello, testing. What can I get you this fine morning, sir?”

The tape stopped and Baby picked his stuff up off the floor. He looked at Mark and froze. Mark’s fists were clenched at his sides and his eyes were narrowed in angry slits. Baby took a step back.

“Who the hell was that?” Mark demanded.

“Just a waitress from Bo’s,” Baby answered quickly, “I don’t even know her name.”

Mark laughed incredulously, “I’m supposed to believe that when you have a recording of her singing to you?”

“It’s the truth.”

"Erase it."

"What? Why?"

"Because," Mark said taking a step forward, "I said so."

Baby stared in shock, "I-I can't. It's a cassette."

"Give it here, then," Mark said, reaching out his hand.

With steady hands, Baby pulled the cassette tape out and handed it over to Mark. He watched dejectedly as Mark viciously unwound the film, dropped the tape to the floor, and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot.

"I don't want you going back to Bo's."

Baby's eyes widened, "But I--"

"Don't fucking argue, Baby," Mark raised his voice and moved so that he was right in Baby's space, "you're not going back to Bo's, and that's final."

"No," Baby said quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"I said--"

Baby saw it coming. He saw the clenched fist, the arm drawn back, the intent written in every line of Mark's body, he saw it all, but he couldn't make himself move.

Mark's fist slammed into the left side of his face with enough force to knock Baby off balance and send him crashing into the coffee table and then onto the floor. Staring up at the ceiling as the ringing in his ears intensified to a near deafening hum, Baby wondered how this happened.

Mark's face appeared above him, no longer contorted in anger. He looked worried. Baby couldn't hear what he was saying, but that didn't matter because he knew the shape of those words.

"I'm sorry. Baby, I'm so sorry. Oh my god."

Baby stayed perfectly still. Mark put his hands on Baby's face, turning it this way and that to inspect the damage. Sound slowly started to filter back in beneath the tinnitus.

"Baby, talk to me. Are you okay?"

He sat up a bit, "I'm fine."

"Oh my god, Baby I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me," Mark laughed ruefully, "I just can't control myself when it comes to you."

The words echoed in his head. He'd heard them so many times before as child cowering in his bed with ear buds crammed in his ears and his mother whispering softly that everything would be fine. He heard them every time his father came home the next day with a bouquet of flowers and a promise to do better. Baby wished he knew what to do.

Mark was still talking, a litany of apologies spilling from his lips, promises that it would never happen again, but Baby knew better. He knew better. He did. Didn't he?

"It's okay," he heard himself say, "You didn't mean to."

Mark wrapped his arms around Baby and held him close, murmuring in his ear, "I love you. I love you so much. Please forgive me. Please."

Baby felt tears stinging his eyes. He was supposed to know better.

"I do. I forgive you," he said.

Mark kissed him.

Baby fisted a hand in the back of Mark's shirt and clung on tight. He didn't want to give this up. He couldn't.

He loved him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is pretty much to make someone cry while reading this.

The next day, Baby and Mark were walking hand in hand down the streets of downtown Atlanta. Mark had insisted they go out and buy something nice for Baby to make up for the night before, but Baby didn't want anything, he just wanted to forget about the whole thing and go home. His face hurt and his ears rang and he could feel a headache coming on as they walked into another store.

Mark asked him, yet again, what he wanted and Baby was about to repeat that he didn't know, when his eyes settled on a long, wool coat. It reminded him of Doc.

Catching his line of sight, Mark said, "You like that?"

"Well, I--"

"Try it on," Mark said, pushing him toward it.

Baby didn't understand the numbers on the collars and looked at the rack of coats helplessly. Mark called a salesgirl over to help him out and Baby stood still as he was measured, poked, and fussed over.

Twenty minutes later, they walked out of the store with the coat folded neatly in a bag.

As they turned to head down the street, Baby collided with someone heading the opposite direction. Stumbling back, he started to apologize, but stopped in his tracks when he saw who was looking back at him.

Buddy and Darling were staring at him with matching looks of surprise. Buddy reacted first.

"Hey, Baby, fancy running into you," Buddy said with a smirk. His smile dropped a moment later when he registered the bruises covering Baby's face, "Jesus, what the hell happened to you, kid?"

Baby reached up toward his face and adjusted his sunglasses, "I fell." Mark's grip on his hand suddenly became painful.

Noticing their linked hands, Darling asked, "Who's your fella, Baby?"

"Oh. This is Mark. Mark, this is Buddy and Darling. My," he paused, searching for the appropriate word, "coworkers."

"Good to meet you," Buddy said with his hands in his pockets.

"You taking good care of our Baby, Mark?" Darling asked with a sly smile.

With a fake grin pasted on his face, Mark answered, "Of course," turning to Baby, he said, "we should really get going."

"Don't let us keep you," Buddy said.

Darling stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Baby’s neck, "See you around, sweet stuff," she stepped back and caressed his cheek, "be careful, now."

With an unreadable look at Mark, Darling put her arm around Buddy's and continued down the street.

Mark stared after them, irritation clear on his face. "Fucking assholes," he muttered under his breath, "what kind of names are Buddy and Darling, anyway?"

Baby shrugged.

Mark rounded on him, "And why the hell did you let her touch you like that?"

“Like what?”

Mark rolled his eyes and walked back toward the car, “God, never mind.”

Baby followed.

“Do you ever see them outside of work?” Mark asked.

Baby shook his head, “No. That was the first time.”

“Good. Don’t.”

Mindful of the last time he disagreed with Mark, Baby just nodded and acquiesced.

He didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

 

***

 

Standing outside his apartment door after Mark had dropped him off, Baby was struggling to come up with an explanation for the bruises covering his face. Over the course of the day, they had darkened into a deep purple color and started throbbing in time to his heartbeat. Without any ideas as to what to tell Joe, Baby unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Noticing the movement, Joe turned to greet him. As soon as his eyes landed on Baby, his hands were moving, “ _What happened?”_

_“Nothing, I’m fine.”_

Joe gave him a frustrated look and repeated his question.

_“I had an accident. I’m fine.”_

_“Don’t lie to me. Who did that?”_

Baby paused. He couldn’t lie to Joe, he just couldn’t. “ _Mark.”_

Joe’s eyes widened and Baby rushed to explain.

“ _He didn’t mean to. I—“_

Joe shook his head sharply at Baby, _“Don’t make excuses for him.”_

Baby let his hands drop to his sides.

 _“What are you going to do?”_ Joe asked.

_“Nothing.”_

“ _Why?”_

_“I just can't.”_

Joe looked as though Baby’s words had physically pained him. 

 _“Remember,”_ Joe signed, _“I’m always here for you. No matter what.”_

Baby’s eyes burned and he took a heavy breath, _“I know.”_

Paul Peterson started singing gently in his ears and Baby had to shut himself in his room to keep from falling apart in front of Joe.

_He isn't much in the eyes of the world; he'll never make history_

Baby slid down against the wall, his head between his knees.

_No, he isn't much in the eyes of the world, but he is the world to me_

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the flow of tears.

_My dad, now here is a man_

Baby stayed there all night.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, Baby left the apartment before Joe woke up—making sure to leave a peanut-butter sandwich and a note before he went.

The sun was barely up when he made it to Bo’s Diner. When he pushed open the door, the waitress from last time looked up to greet him with a smile on her lips.

“You’re back—oh my god, your face,” she blurted.

Baby had forgotten about that, “Oh, yeah. Had a nasty fight with a door,” he smiled, “it won.”

“Don’t it hurt, though?” She asked.

“Not so much.”

“Okay,” she said skeptically, “well then you, sir, are going to be my last customer of the day because I am walking out that door in precisely thirty seconds.”

“You’re leaving?” Baby asked, disappointed.

“Yes, sir.”

Baby desperately wanted to ask if he could go with her, but he held his tongue.

“Well, think about what you want and I will stick around just for you,” she said, “Coffee?”

“Please. Uh, cream and sugar,” he answered as he walked to his usual booth.

She came back moments later and slid the coffee across the table to him, “Know what you want?”

“Your name?”

“Oh, well you can get that for free,” she picked up his tape-recorder and clicked it on, “it’s Debbie. Debora.”

“Like the song.”

“The Beck one? Yeah. Well, except I’m D-e-b-o-r-a and I think that’s just D-e-b-r-a.”

“I don’t know that one.”

Debora looked around and sat down at the table, picking up the tape-recorder once more, “Oh, it goes: I met you at J.C. Penney. I think your name tag said Jenny.”

Baby laughed, “Jenny?”

“The song’s about him wanting to get with Jenny and her sister, too, who’s name is Debra. So it’s not even really about me, it’s about the sister,” she huffed out a sigh, “My sister’s name is Mary. She’s got _all_ the songs. ‘Mary, Mary Where Are You Goin’’ to ‘Proud Mary Keep On Burning’ to ‘The Wind Cries Mary’. She’s got me beat, again. She’s got endless songs. I got one.”

“No, you got two.”

“What’s the other one?”

“’Debora’, the song I’m talking about.”

She laughed, “Who by?”

“Trex.”

She scrunched her face up quizzically, “T-Rex?”

“Uhh, yeah.”

“I’ve heard of them, but don’t know that one. How’s is go?” she asked, picking up the tape-recorder and holding it out to him expectantly.

“Oh—oh, Debora, always look like a zeh-bra,” he sang lamely.

“A zeh-bra?”

“Like a zebra, I guess.”

Debora laughed again, “Well, you can call me Dee-bra.”

“I think I actually got Debora on here,” Baby said, pulling his other iPod out of his pocket.

“What? How many of those do you have?”

“Oh, I got different iPods for different days and moods.”

“Ah,” she said, understanding, “and you’re in a pink and glittery mood.”

Looking at Debora and feeling lighter than he had in weeks, Baby said, “I am now.”

“What is your name?”

“Baby.”

“Wait, what? Your name’s Baby, B-a-b-y, Baby.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then you have us all beat! Every damn song is about you. We could drive back and forth across the states forever and never run out of Baby songs.”

“We might run out of gas, though.”

“Did your mom call you Baby as a kid?”

Baby felt his smile drop a little bit, “Sometimes.”

“She used to work here?”

“Sometimes, but, uh, she was a singer, too.”

“What does she do now?”

“Nothing,” Baby said, lapsing into a momentary silence, “uh, I can find ‘Debora’ if you want.”

“Debbie!” a voiced called from the kitchen, startling them, “for cryin’ out loud.”

Debbie slid out of the booth, “Play it for me sometime I don’t have to get out of here. Deal?”

“Yeah, deal.”

“Now, you know what you want yet?”

Baby imagined, just for a moment, what it would be like to go with her, “No, no, I’m fine. You can get out of here.”

“You sure you don’t want anything? I don’t mind staying.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“If you insist. Let’s ring you up and we can walk out together.”

“All right,” he said, getting out of the booth and following her to the till.

He settled his bill and watched her scribble some numbers on her pad before ripping it off and handing it over to him.

“What’s this,” he asked.

“It’s my number. So you can tell me about that Debora song.”

“Oh, I don’t have a phone. Just the one at the apartment.”

“Well, that’s fine, ain’t it?”

Surprised by her response, he took a second to answer, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Well, let me just grab my jacket and we can get out of here.”

“Okay,” Baby said, watching her go, a smile on his face.

 

***

 

Baby got home later that afternoon and was checking the pockets of his and Joe’s clothes before he put them in the wash when he came across something in the pocket of the jacket he was wearing earlier that week. He pulled out a folded-up piece of paper and carefully unfolded it. On it was a phone number he didn’t recognize.

He took it over to the phone and punched it in, almost certain of who was going to be on the other end of the line.

It connected on the third ring with a soft click.

“Who is this?” Darling asked.

“It’s Baby. Why’d you put your number in my pocket?”

A pause. “You know why, Baby,” she said gently.

Baby felt the blood in his veins run cold, “No, I don’t,” he said, and hung up.

Baby ripped up the piece of paper and threw it away. When he went back to his room, his burner was vibrating.

Baby tried not to scream.


End file.
